


Percy: Hot and Cold

by MistressPandora



Series: Knotty John and His Men [1]
Category: Lord John Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Blindfolds, Come Eating, Dominant Lord John, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Temperature Play, Wax Play, submissive percy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPandora/pseuds/MistressPandora
Summary: As it turns out, being tied to the bed wasn't a hard sell for Percy.
Relationships: Lord John Grey/Percy Wainwright
Series: Knotty John and His Men [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043652
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31
Collections: Lord John Grey Cocoa and Kink 2020, Outlander Bingo Challenge





	Percy: Hot and Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Lord John Grey Reading Nook](https://lordjohngreyreadingnook.tumblr.com/) Cocoa and Kink event, featuring rope bondage and temperature play.
> 
> This story fills my Outlander Bingo square: **Good Boy.**

Percy’s eyes went wide when he returned to his rooms to find that Grey had rearranged a few things in his brief absence. Or perhaps it wasn’t so much that Lord John had taken the liberty of pushing the little table against one wall and shoving the modest bedstead to the center of the room. It might have been the array of neatly coiled ropes, candles, silk ribbons, and one lone knife with a single-sided blade arranged on said relocated table that brought Percy up short. He set the bowl of fresh snow he’d collected on the window ledge and removed his cloak. His eyes were fixed on the table as he fumbled the garment onto a hook near the door.

“Um. John? Are we perhaps abducting and stabbing someone this evening?” Percy asked, voice wary but clearly not expecting a serious, affirmative response. The firelight played across Percy’s delicate features and Grey closed the distance between them, desperate to trace the shadows with his fingers.

Lord John ran his hand through Percy’s short curls, traced a thumb over plump lips that he so desperately wanted to sink his teeth into. “No, nothing like that. This is for you, if you're interested."

A shiver ran through Percy and he licked his lips, leaving them glossy and wet. "You know I trust you completely. But, um… the knife?"

“Merely a precaution.” Grey leaned in, hovering barely an inch from Percy’s mouth, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I would never mar that beautiful skin of yours.” Just a little closer. They breathed each other’s air. “You need to keep all your blood on the inside so I can watch you turn pink.”

Percy was on him then, wet lips and insistent tongue. Grey permitted him to shove his hands under his clothes, let him knead his muscles and claw at his back. His hair was just long enough for Grey to grab a handful, breaking off the kiss with a firm tug. “Would you care to undress for me?” 

“Yes,” Percy gasped. He squirmed just a little but made no earnest move to pull away.

Grey arched an eyebrow at him and cast a little steel into his voice. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.” It wasn’t precisely a whimper. But it was close.

Grey released him. “There’s a good boy. Do it slowly.”

The hearth was too small to overheat the room, leaving the air refreshingly cool near the door where they stood. Percy obediently slid his coat from his arms with deliberate slowness and hung it next to their cloaks. He knew how to seduce a man through mundane tasks. The plucking open of waistcoat buttons. The way he held his body when he slid his breeches off. Always making eye contact with Grey to a degree bordering on impertinence and it sent a thrill of want through him.

Grey stripped to his breeches, relishing the feel of Percy’s hungry eyes on his bare chest whenever he could pull them away from the implements on the table. “Close your eyes,” he said, and Percy complied immediately. Grey selected a length of wide silk ribbon in a shimmering emerald green and let it unfurl in his hands. He draped the ribbon over Percy’s shoulder and dragged it lightly over his chest, the whisper of the delicate material over his flesh lost to the gentle crackle of the fire. 

Percy shivered, his lips parting in a gasp, and Grey grabbed him roughly by the chin and kissed him, tasting the soft parts of his luxurious mouth, the sharp ridges of his teeth. He wrapped the green ribbon around Percy’s eyes and tied it behind his head. “No peeking, my beloved. Do you think you can manage that?”

“Yes, Sir.” Percy’s pink tongue darted out and ran over his lips, moistening them or chasing the taste of Grey’s kiss.

With gentle words and firm touches, Grey guided him to the bed and helped him arrange himself comfortably on the mattress. Percy went willingly, eagerly, melting little by little under Grey’s hands and murmured praise.

“Stay put,” Grey said, retrieving two coils of rope from the table. He laid one on Percy’s midsection, smirking down at his lover’s twitching stomach and confused brow. The other rope he uncoiled, meeting the ends and running it through his hands until he arrived at the bight. His ropes were hemp and well treated, the frays carefully singed off and the entire length oiled to a buttery smoothness. He loved the feel of them in his hands, the shape they took when he wrapped them around a pretty body. And Percy’s body certainly fit the bill.

Gooseflesh rippled up Percy’s arm as Grey wrapped the rope around his wrist, breath catching in his throat when he looped the rope, pulling it into a tidy bowline knot. Stretching Percy’s arm out to the side, he tied the long end of the rope to the bed frame. At Grey’s instruction, Percy gave his bond an experimental tug. He only had an inch or so of slack, and the knot kept its shape without tightening around his wrist. It was a heady sight, the well-formed knot and the perfectly smooth, parallel lines of rope wrapped gently just above Percy’s slender wrist, binding him to the bed. Entirely at John’s mercy. Grey adjusted himself with a palm against the crotch of his breeches.

Grey repeated the knot on Percy’s other wrist, tying it to the opposite side of the bedstead, rendering his arms stretched wide and quite immobile. Bending low, he planted a kiss on Percy's arm, swiped his tongue over his bicep. "My dear Percy, how…" he scraped his teeth over Percy’s shoulder— " _delectable_ you look trussed up for me"

Percy's legs squirmed, probably involuntarily. A strong hand laid on Percy's thigh calmed him to a twitch. "There's my good boy."

He stopped fidgeting then and Grey rewarded him by drawing out the touch. He caressed the soft flesh of Percy’s inner thigh, teased his fingertips up the cleft of his arse, tickling at the underside of his balls, ignoring Percy’s rapidly hardening prick before backing away altogether.

"John," Percy gasped, his fingers curling and uncurling against the linens.

"Shh," John whispered, leaning over his lover's lips. "I promise to take thorough care of you." There was so much pale, lovely skin laid out for him, smooth and largely unmarred by time or battle. There was an innocence to Percy's naked appearance rather at odds with his experience and current position. Grey found himself both unable to keep his hands from his body and unwilling to try. He scraped his nails down Percy’s sides with just enough force to leave a faint pink trail of four parallel lines on either side. "My God, you are stunning. And you _are_ my very good boy, aren't you?"

"Christ, John, I'll be whatever you want me to be, just keep touching me." 

Percy’s lips and the tip of his tongue were cold from gasping over and over, and John kissed him until they were warm again. “Just feel,” he murmured against Percy’s mouth. Grey collected a pinch of wet snow from the bowl by the window—the coldest part of the room—in his fingers, and dropped it in the center of Percy’s chest.

Wracked by a shocked gasp, Percy started wriggling on the bed again, the melting snow dribbling down the side of his rib cage. Percy had a tantalizing trail of dark hair that ran from his navel to the thicker patch of curls at the base of his prick. Grey dropped more snow at the top of this, and dragged his finger through it, drawing it down the length of that trail.

_“John,”_ Percy moaned, his back arching. "Cold!"

Grey chuckled. "Well of course it is. Why do you think I told you to get the snow in the first place? Don't worry, my dear, I'll warm you up." He closed his lips around Percy's nipple and sucked, drawing more wanton moans from his lover. Percy's prick twitched, and a droplet appeared at the tip. Lord John lapped that up with a quick flick of his tongue, making Percy whimper.

The candles that Grey had brought with him were low, wide things made of beeswax, and melted wax had collected in a little pool near the wick. He took one of these and, holding it high, tipped over a few drops of wax onto the back of his own hand to test the temperature. It was hot but not injurious. Perfect.

Raising the candle high above the bed, Grey dribbled a single, fat droplet on Percy’s leg. Percy hissed as the wax hardened. 

“Did I hurt you?” Grey asked. “Is that too much?”

“No!” Percy said. He was squirming again. “A surprise, is all. But it’s alright. Please,” he begged. “Please, more. Sir.”

Grey hummed in approval. “Good boys get what they want. As you wish.” He tipped the candle over again, splashing more liquid beeswax onto Percy’s legs, careful to stay well away from his prick and balls. He began alternating then, a dribble of wax here, a dollop of wet snow there. Percy writhed under his attentions, moaning and gasping and crying out as if there was no one else in the world but the two of them and the onslaught of sensation. 

When the bowl of snow held nothing but very cold water, Grey took a mouthful of it and held it on his tongue. He bent over Percy and sucked his prick into his mouth, careful not to drop the water. Percy gasped and shuddered, arching his back. Grey swallowed the water and pressed his cold tongue against the underside of Percy’s hard cock, sucking the length until his mouth grew warm again.

“Fucking _hell_ , John!” Percy cried. Grey pulled off and Percy whined and bucked his hips. “More, please—God—I’m so close. Please.”

Grey kissed his mouth, deep and messy. “Patience, Perseverance." The last silk ribbon on the table was a bright French blue. Grey unrolled this and dragged the length over Percy's body. Up his legs, over his arms, across his lips which were compressed tightly against a whine that he failed miserably to suppress. At last, he wrapped the middle of it around the leaking head of Percy's prick, crisscrossing it around his shaft, wrapping it completely and securing it with a neat bow nestled against his dark curls.

Every breath Percy took was a gasp or a moan. "John. Please. Sir."

With a firm hand, Grey cupped Percy's balls, squeezing a whimper out of his lover with his measured pressure. "Do not make a mess of my ribbon, this is my favorite one. Do you understand your orders, Second Lieutenant?" Percy couldn’t see his stern face with the green silk still over his eyes, but Grey arched an eyebrow at him anyway, just for fun.

"Jesus," Percy whined. "Yes, Sir. Christ, John. The colonel voice is not fair and you know it." His lovely, silk-wrapped prick twitched and he seemed quite incapable of keeping his legs still.

“Fair?” Grey lifted Percy’s thigh and dug his fingers into the meat of his arse. Percy yelped. “Are you not mine, Mr. Wainwright?”

“Yes, Sir. Yours.”

“Do you no longer wish to submit to me?” Grey let his voice soften enough for Percy to understand that it was an earnest question.

“I do, Sir.” Percy moistened his lips with his tongue and made a visible effort to slow his panting breaths. “I submit to you. I’m your good boy.”

Grey hummed in approval and loosened his grip, massaging Percy’s abused flesh. “That you are.” He selected his longest length of coiled rope from the table and unwound it, letting the soft hemp cascade on top of Percy's body. Grey took his time finding the bight, relishing the sight of his lover buried in a pool of rope destined to bind him. As the rope slithered over his skin, Percy shuddered, gooseflesh blossoming on his legs in the wake of the contact. 

With a gentle command, Percy bent one knee, leaving plenty of room for Grey to wrap the rope around his lower thigh and secure it with another bowline knot. 

"Lift your leg," Grey said, guiding Percy's bent leg back toward his chest. He helped him lift his head just enough to get the doubled rope behind his neck. “Now the other one. Yes, good boy.” 

Percy’s teeth were sunk firmly into his bottom lip as Grey wrapped the rope around his other thigh in a mirror of the first. He didn’t tie it off, but held it firmly in one hand to judge the length, Percy’s arse deliciously exposed. 

“Relax your legs, let the rope hold you.” Grey laid a reassuring hand on Percy’s stomach. “How is that? Comfortable enough?”

Percy whimpered and nodded.

Grey planted a kiss on Percy’s knee. “Use your words, beloved. Does this hurt you?”

“No. S-sir. It’s comfortable.” The muscles of Percy’s arms were tight, occasionally convulsing against the ropes holding him down.

The final knot around Percy’s leg was simple enough to complete, and Grey stepped back to admire his handiwork. Percy was an absolute vision before him. Strong arms spread wide, hands clawed against the mattress. Pretty green ribbon over his eyes, his short-cropped hair a tousled mess from the blindfold and his thrashing against the pillow. Legs spread and bent back, the pose aided by the rope behind his neck. His prick enveloped completely in blue silk was difficult not to touch. Grey touched everything else though. He ran his hands along the taut ropes, then Percy’s arms, chest, legs. All the skin he’d cooled with snow was warm again. The tips of his fingers tripped over the hard spatters of wax on Percy’s legs and stomach, now gone cold. 

“My God, you are incomparably beautiful. Did you know that?” Grey removed his breeches and knelt on the bed between Percy’s spread legs, slid his hard prick slowly against Percy’s, the feel of the silk and the cockstand underneath torturously erotic. 

“Please, John,” Percy panted. “Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”

“No,” Grey said, settling down and pressing his lips to the bend of Percy’s thigh. “What you _need_ is to remember your orders not to make a mess of that ribbon.” Another kiss, lingering, inching closer to his hole. “And to be patient.” He dragged his lips over Percy’s skin, closer still. “I will take—” he was right there and Percy was whimpering and gasping again— “thorough—” Grey teased his entrance with just a flick of his tongue— “care of you.”

“John!”

Grey dove in, licking Percy, kissing him, sucking without mercy while Percy writhed and moaned and begged for more. The bed frame creaked a little where the ropes were secured, occasionally audible when Percy took a gasping breath. 

“I won’t last,” Percy whined. “John— _fuck_ —I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Grey drizzled some oil into his palm and slicked up his prick. The feel of his own hand was tantalizing, but inside Percy would be even better. He sank in slowly, giving his lover plenty of time to relax and adjust, gasping and swearing until Grey was flush against him. “Oh, Percy. Just a little longer, my dear.” He pressed his lips to the side of Percy’s calf.

“I need… John—please.” Sweat glimmered over Percy’s body, creating the illusion that the wax on his skin was melting again.

Grey began slowly, carefully, but Percy soon let out an impatient whine, and he picked up the pace. It was almost overwhelming, the sum total of sensations assaulting him. The sight of Percy like this—bound, blind, totally at Grey’s mercy and split open on his prick—he committed to memory for future service on lonely nights. The sound of his own ragged breathing and grunt of effort mixed with Percy’s loud moaning. The faint aroma of the hemp rope mingled with the scent of their sweat and woodsmoke from the fire. The taste of Percy’s skin when Grey kissed his leg again. The feel of the pliant body under and around him. It was thrilling, intoxicating even, and the feeling of power over and responsibility for Percy made Grey’s head swim. Burning pleasure brought everything into and out of focus at the same time.

“Percy,” Grey said without letting up on his brutal pace. “Are you listening to me?”

“I can’t do it, John. I need to come. Just touch me. Please!”

“Sweet Jesus.” Grey wrapped one hand tight around Percy’s cock and yanked the bow loose with the other, pulling it free. Percy arched his back and his whole body went tight with pleasure and effort. “Do it then. Come for me, Lieutenant Wainwright.”

With a wordless cry, Percy’s release spurted onto his stomach, chest, a dollop or two landing on his own cheek and jaw. It was more than enough to push John over the edge and he muffled his own hoarse shout against Percy’s shin. 

Percy trembled under him, seed-spattered chest heaving. Grey urged his legs back just a little farther and helped him slip the rope over his head. As soon as Percy’s legs were relaxed and draped over Grey’s hips, Lord John bent over his lover and licked him clean of his release, both of them humming with pleasure. Shoving the green ribbon off, Grey looked down into Percy’s eyes, glazed with pleasure, and smiled down at him. “Are you alright, my dear?”

Percy blinked several times as if trying to focus his vision, then gave it up entirely and closed his eyes, his head lolling to the side. “Hmm. John? If I promise to be on my best behavior, will you do that again?”

Grey laughed and kissed him. “Yes I will. If you aren’t on your best behavior, I’ll also spank you.”

“Oh, _God,”_ Percy groaned, his tone similar to moments before his orgasm.

Grey took his time untying him, starting with his wrists, and then his legs, coiling the ropes neatly and leaving them on the table again. He’d left a blanket warming near the fire and retrieved this, spreading it over Percy before sliding under it and taking Percy securely into his arms. “You did well, Second Lieutenant.”

“Christ, John,” Percy murmured. “I’m going to get a cockstand everytime someone addresses me by rank now, do you realize that?”

“Then next time we do this, you can call me _Colonel_ and we can be indecent together.”


End file.
